


Stumped: Newt Scamander/Reader (Rewritten)

by Cebby



Series: Waiting Patiently For Love [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Mutual Pining, Pre-Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cebby/pseuds/Cebby
Summary: I decided to rewrite one of my most popular fiction pieces, both to see how I have improved and to give anyone who has stuck around some nostalgia & serotonin:You spend the few hours of leisure you were granted with Newt Scamander. He is both your employer and your greatest friend; the only problem being that neither of you can stop your secret pining for one another. You can't stop smiling at him, and Newt definitely can't stop smiling at you either.
Relationships: Newt Scamander & Reader, Newt Scamander/Reader, Newt Scamander/You, Queenie Goldstein & Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Tina Goldstein & Newt Scamander
Series: Waiting Patiently For Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536946
Kudos: 30





	Stumped: Newt Scamander/Reader (Rewritten)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spiritt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiritt/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Stumped (Newt Scamander/Reader)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897123) by [Cebby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cebby/pseuds/Cebby). 



> If any of you lovely people read my original piece when it was posted, let me know! I want to know how many of you stuck around, haha!
> 
> Funny business aside: I wrote this for a female reader originally, so I have decided to keep it that way. I apologize for my male, non-binary, genderfluid, trans, or other readers! I will eventually bring you more inclusive content, promise. :)

Somewhere, inside a small flat, inside a worn suitcase, sat two young wizards. Wrapped in the warmth of a false sun and gentle, magicked breeze, they lounged about. Having enough time to relax, to enjoy each other's company in silence, and to spend time with the beasts they rescued was rare. Their lives were built on being busy, moving about, running from people and beasts alike. Hectic. Hectic but fun, they would say. Hectic but charming, or exciting, or just right. No matter how their daily happenings were described, the two were content in their lives. 

* * *

Newt had situated himself on a small stool, just beyond the confines of his small hut. His hands twisted this way and that, finger swiftly but carefully weaving long strands of grass. It was going to be a basket, though even he himself wasn't sure what for. Though his hands and body focused on the task before him, his mind was wandering. The glassy look in his eyes was noticeable, as was the concentration on his face. As he finished one part of the basket, his eyes darted to it before immediately returning to their prior point of attention.

He knew he was starting. He had realized it ages ago. The question was _why_. _Why_ was he staring?

Sighing, Newt stopped working for a moment. He dropped his gaze back into his lap, away from you. At this point, it felt as though he had memorized every inch of you. It was _embarrassing_ how eagerly he drank in your features. Your soft, rosy lips curled into a tender smile. The gentle curve of your nose, speckled with freckles from exposure to the sun. Your eyes, sparkling in their unique, gorgeous way. He has stared at you for so long, yet he still couldn't pinpoint the exact color of your eyes; the shade seemed to change with the light. Aside from that, you had chosen a lovely trouser and blouse pairing that drew his eye. It was simplistic: a beige shirt and tanned trousers, but it complimented you well.

Groaning, the Brit ran his hand over his face and mumbled to himself. However, as he watched your pencil work away at the sketchbook before you, your eyes locked onto the form of the Nundu, he knew that he was doomed. He gave up on the basket, setting it off to the side, gently. "Bloody hell, you're not a schoolboy, Newton."

You were his closest friend, as well as the illustrator for his upcoming novel. Each day that he spent with you, each new, lovely detail he discovered. All your faults, imperfections, good deeds, beauty, hobbies, all of it came to light. The more time he spent with you, the deeper he fell in love. Every time you gained the trust of a new creature, doted on them, and cared for them he felt himself step further into a grave he could not escape. The hard work you put into your work, both the chores he assigned and the illustrating that you did, made his heart swell with pride. He wanted to be with you always, to sleep by your side, to be the first thing you saw in the morning, to be the only one you kissed. It drove him mad sometimes, but he never endeavored to say a word. The smile tugging at his lips left him wondering. The small laugh of disbelief and pure affection that left him called into question all his decisions. His affections for you, his friend, grew each day and it hurt him to keep them from you. Perhaps he should tell you, lift the weight off his chest and damn all the consequences to hell. He wanted to, of course, but the fear of pushing you away always held him back.

Ultimately, it was your laughter that pulled him from his musings. He watched you one last time, laughing along with you as you pushed a loose strand of hair from your face. He let all thoughts of you slip away as he returned to work. The noticeable pink blush sprawled across his cheeks faded just so, though the tips of his ears still burned. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, the man who preferred the company of creatures to that of people, was utterly stumped. How had you gotten such a grip on his heart, and why couldn't he shake it?

* * *

When the sound of Newt's laughter cut through the air, it drew your attention. You weren't ashamed to say you had been staring at him, off and on, but the blush that crawled across your features at the sight of his laughing figure said otherwise. He was still weaving his basket, choosing to work when he could have been relaxing. You could have sworn he'd turned his eyes from you when you looked up, but the focus on his face now assured you that you had been imagining things. Well, _real_ things. Things that _weren't_ your love for the man. Things that _weren't_ at _all_ related to the love you felt for him. No, no. That would be silly...

You sighed, rolling your eyes at your own denial. No one else was here to question you, no one else could see. The only person worth hiding your ogling from was the man sitting across the clearing, the very man to which all your attention was dedicated. "Oh, get a grip, love. Newt isn't the type to fancy anyone."

You had meant to whisper it, to mumble to yourself, but your musing had caught Newt's attention. He turned to you. "What was that, love?"

"Oh, nothing! Sorry. I was mumbling to myself." You swore your heart would beat out of your chest and your face would catch fire.

"Ah." The smile he gave you floored you. "I see, well, I'm back to work then. Do shut if you need me though."

"Of course!" You tried to go back to your sketching as well, but it simply wouldn't work. You couldn't concentrate one bit.

Your eyes glanced back up before you could stop them. You traced the pattern of his freckles, the auburn strands of his hair that flopped into his face, and the steady movements of his hands. Your eyes kept wandering, never once staying still, never once returning to your page. It was like you wanted to memorize his features, and perhaps that's what you were doing. You had even put your sketchbook to the side, subconsciously, and turned to fully face him. It hadn't occurred to you that movement would draw Newt's attention. The bright, forest green of his eyes meeting yours and the awkward cough that left him startled you.

Blinking, you saw his face flush darkly and you knew yours matched. He raised a hand, waving gently. "Hello."

Giggling, you attempted to brush off the staring with a wave of your own. "Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Scamander."

_'Oh, dear.'_ You thought. 'That was much too awkward. I should keep my musings less obvious,'

And so it was, that you were left to sketch and think. It seemed that Newt was not the only one in a predicament, as confusion too clouded your mind. You were stumped. Stumped as to why Newt had seemed so pleased with your staring, why his smiling never ceased, and why he had chosen to keep you in his company after that. 


End file.
